


pull me down hard and drown me in love

by fits_in_frames



Category: Heroes RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-26
Updated: 2009-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1499417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stops short when Adrian's slightly stunned face slowly melts into that soft, wicked smile he gets when there's about to be trouble. The good kind of trouble, but still trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pull me down hard and drown me in love

**Author's Note:**

> _i miss the pull of your heart_  
>  _i can taste the sparks on your tongue_  
>  _i see angels and devils and god_  
>  _when you come on_  
>  {matt nathanson // come on get higher}  
> 

Milo's about ninety percent sure he's mere seconds away from clocking Adrian over the head with his heavy-as-sin soup spoon when he excuses himself from the pre-dinner table, despite the protests of the rest of his castmates. It wouldn't be so bad, except that he hasn't _seen_ Adrian for almost two weeks and his arm ended up across the back of Milo's chair, fingers curling around his shoulder when he shifts, and then they're practically sitting thigh to thigh, and one measly hug before they sat down was just not satisfying enough. But now he's walking away from the table, half-angry and half-horny, and _that_ is a dangerous combination. Especially when Adrian grabs his arm from behind. He suddenly wishes he still had that spoon is his disposal as he turns around.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Adrian practically whispers. He doesn't sound pissed, just confused. Maybe a little edge of worry.

"What the fuck's wrong with _you_?" His voice wavers on that last syllable, despite his efforts otherwise. He swallows. "You think you can just--put your arm around me like it hasn't been two weeks? You think--"

He stops short when Adrian's slightly stunned face slowly melts into that soft, wicked smile he gets when there's about to be trouble. The good kind of trouble, but still trouble. It's very hard not to grab him and kiss him right there, but they're in _public_ and people are _staring_ , so he holds back.

"C'mon," Adrian murmurs, showing where he wants to go with a little tilt of his head. He takes Milo's hand. Milo follows.

There's a yellow caution sign folded up outside the men's room door, and Adrian glances around quickly before setting it up.

"What are you--" Milo starts, but Adrian grabs him at his waist with one hand, opens the bathroom door with the other, and once they're inside (after the initial sweep for others turns up negative), he pins Milo to the door, pressing their hips together, holding his wrists against the cool, smooth wood. And then, they're kissing.

It's their first kiss all over again, all feverish and open-mouthed, kissing like they need it to survive, noses butting up against each other as they maneuver around inside each other's mouths. Adrian releases Milo's wrists, and his hands go automatically to the side of Adrian's neck, the angle of his jaw, just resting there, fingers curling ever so slightly. Adrian's hands fumble with Milo's neatly tucked-in shirt, desperately trying, and eventually succeeding, in getting up and under, exploring his body in broad, symmetrical movements. It feels familiar, warm-- _good_. He'd almost forgotten.

Adrian grows tired of his mouth after a minute or two, moving away from the constant barrage of lips and teeth, to the underside of his chin, the hollow of his neck, kissing and licking and nipping at skin that won't kiss him back. Milo makes a noise of needy encouragement in the back of his throat, tips his head back against the door, feels Adrian hum with approval as his hands slip under the waistband of Milo's pants, thumbs hooked through the ununsed belt loops, fingers slowly inching towards the middle: unbuttoning, unzipping, undoing. Milo flexes his fingers in a fistful of Adrian's hair, erratically. And then with almost no warning, Adrian's on his knees, pulling Milo's pants and briefs down to mid-thigh, palming his mostly-hard cock as he does. He runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the precome around, looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, biting his bottom lip questioningly.

"Jesus Christ," Milo mutters, only half-aware of what he's saying, "just blow me already."

And instantly Adrian's innocent expression changes, with just a little devious quirk of his lips, and that turns him on even _more_.

Moments later, Adrian's lips close around the tip of his cock, tongue swirling gently. He tugs on Adrian's hair as his hips hitch up, and his legs feel a little weaker than they did before. He's practically writhing before Adrian gets his whole mouth around his cock, his thumb pressing against Milo's hip while the rest of his fingers dig into the flesh of his ass. The other hand, slick with spit, rubs and twists and does all kinds of amazing things Milo's never even thought of doing, but he can't concentrate enough to remember them later, because Adrian's sucking him off, and it's _fantastic_. Only when he groans, deep in his chest, does Adrian pull off at all. He jerks Milo off the rest of the way, and it only takes a few quick strokes before Milo comes onto Adrian's chin, one hand bracing himself against the wall, the other pressing against the back of Adrian's head. He's looking up at Milo but his eyes are closed, and before Milo's even done, he licks at his bottom lip, tasting it, and smiling blissfully.

Milo recovers slowly, panting for breath and willing his knees to get solid again. He traces one finger along Adrian's jawline, says, "We better get you cleaned up, don't wanna go back out like that."

Adrian _mmm_ s at him, grabs his waist to pull himself up, and before he can step away to the sink, Milo pulls him into a messy kiss, then moves away from his mouth, licking himself off Adrian's face, and Adrian just lets his eyes roll back in his head. He thumbs the last bit of come off his cheek, smiling mischievously, then kisses him one more time, a salty, lingering kiss. He's palming Adrian through his slacks, but Adrian shakes his head a little.

"Mm," he murmurs, "they're gonna wonder where we are." He pushes Milo up against the door, pressing his warm not-quite-erection into Milo's naked thigh, and whispers, "You'll just have to owe me one."

He pulls back and Milo tries to catch another kiss, but he's too quick and turns away, quirking his lips into a devilish grin.

"Puts your pants back on, Ventimiglia," he says, and Milo listens.

Once they've smoothed down their hair and wiped each other's spit from their lips, they pull the door open--to Greg, Jack, Sendhil, Ali, Zach, and Cristine. Hayden, the youngest and obviously smartest of them all, has opted to remain at the table.

"...were you guys--" Adrian starts.

"Waiting? Yeah," Greg interjects with a smug look.

After a beat, Jack explains, "We were taking bets."

"Oh God," Milo mumbles, horrified. Adrian doesn't say anything, but Milo can see him smirk stupidly out of the corner of his eye. He really, really wishes he had that spoon again.

(Cris, to everyone's surprise--including hers--wins.)


End file.
